2014.02.04 - Job Hunting Twist
The Undernet Transcript happens in the same time frame - Yay for the internet! Plans within plans, Sable came to Gotham for profits, sometimes profits are cash, but cash is just one type of resource. When Gotham upgraded the the cable nodes in recent infrastructure, Sable bought a small cafe near by and converted it to an internet playground of cheap rates and high speed access. In the basement, she had her own monitoring station set up for beginning to follow the number of prizes around Gotham. It was just natural to monitor the uplinks from above. A little extra cirricular actiity on the dark nets and secure hangouts was not too difficult to locate. Then just have HQ play the game, let the techs cruise the hacker sites. Wait for some one good enough to probe them, and let the reverse ping hit back on Sable's "Caffiene Cafe." ---- Hacking is something that in most cases needs time, and even a good old ping is sometimes not too easy, as IPs get allocated mostly randomly. Sometimes the method works out, sometimes it is just the opposite that happens - The hunter and Prey switch sides. And while the HQ pings and tries to root out which public IP Jane uses, Jane noticed the trace attempt and did the reverse, using the IP of the starbucks competitioner she sat in as a shield for her identity. What a surprise that the same node that was searching for her, seemed to keep a connection to the same router she was on. Looking up from the Laptop in front of her, Jane glanced around who in the coffee shop might be the one that sent those eastern europes after her - did they hunt her down for who she was and could not remember? ---- The design had been elegant, for the purpose it was intended. Criminals would use the new highspeed cafe for animous online money transfers, or covert communications. Silver Sable International would 'follow the money' on a more physical manner. What you need though is talent, some of Sable's techs were really good at what they did, but they were mainstreamers, work-a-day salaried. When the door opened up, two men, in suits better worn in the eighties with the thin ties and high collored shirts wearing dark shades came in it. One stocky and about five six and the other lean and over six foot. Oh, they were horrible, they even looked at eachother straight on before starting in opposing directions. At least two laptops snapped closed in less than five seconds. ---- Snapping the laptop closed was not the most wise idea to tell nothing to hide - instead Jane simply swiped over the keyboard, putting in a few commands in a quite silent way so the screen blanked to just a simple search for a car. Were those the two tracing her? Beginners. Same for the two users. Not having deniable tabs open is not too smart. But still, Whoever had traced her had been connected to the node just before they appeared. Taking a sip of the coffee next to her laptop Jane peered away from her screen and over the crowd, waiting for what the two fake FBIs were about to do. Who was the one who had that IP allocated that was contacted about the trace... Not the two noobs.. ---- Were the two really closing in on Jane? Odd, but she was just drinking coffe, was she? IPs were not allocated to a physical position... and routers had no idea where they were in the surrounding usually, unless you try to triangulate someone with a radar dish that has just an opening of less than a degree from two known positions. Letting out a long sigh, she closed the laptop eventually in a casual manner to slip it into the protective case and back into the messanger bag. "Closing early?" Jane asked over to the barista, the hand in her bag closing around the baton. ---- The stocky one slips a shield out of his pocket, the wallet version, holding it up in a showy but quick fashion. "We need you all to remain calm. We have traced a child pornography piggy back to this location. This will take just a few moments for us to sort out. One of the computers out of this location has a virus on it. We will need to see your laptops and and cell phones for just a moment." Meanwhile Sable walked out of the office, dressed in a long silver cashmere blend trench that oozed money. Now just close the trap. The poor barista just shrugged her shoulders at the question, letting the investigators handle things from here appartently. ---- Child pornography? Snorting a slight bit, Jane eyes the badge "What has a virus to do with distasteful crime?" Pulling out the latop once again she eyed the possibly fake cops, knowing that most peole had no idea how to operate some things in the system she used, as it was entirely custom. "But if you need, you can take a look - the moment you touch I call FBI, department of cyber crimes.” ---- The shorter looks at the taller when he is challenged so directly. Then he looks back at the woman. The taller listens to his phone a moment and steps forward, "Okay, everybody that wants to cooperate, please click your task bar as my associate walks up to you, bring up the task manager. Then click processes as you and scroll down for him. Do not touch them prior to prompting." He states and then lower the phone, "Well, Ma'am. The answer is simple. You put a bug on the system, it picks up a specified signal in the executable programs and send the data stream to the other system. this allows the pervs to send the pictures of kids without it tracing to their computers. But.. If you don't want to cooperate. By all means, wait for the FBI to arrive, or for us to find it and clean it off one of the other ssytems." His eyes go past to the odd woman in the back briefly, and she smiles a little bit, just giving a faint nod. She starts towards Jane slowly, reaching in her coat pocket. ---- Jane smirks on the commands, showing the guy her screen - no task bar, not even Windows, Linux or iOs! Just a turning green icosahedron on a black screen, a codepromt > in the lower left "So what you want me to show, the task manager? Ain't have one on the OS here. But I could show you the memory management. Let's see..." Jane types just a few characters - mic record ; vmm - then hits return and the icosahedron swirls to stop with a single face to the screen, zooming in to show an almost emty list, containing only 15 processes in the memory, each of them named quite simple: browser, WiFi, calculator, irc... "happy now? Yep, running on just my own system." Jane answered, typing another commandline to the prompt, which had turned to a * - cqd - but not yet hitting return. ---- The trick is a simple and old one, intimidate. Most law abiding citizens are scared to death of badges and law enforcement, while Silver had hoped to cause a runner and let her grab them for one of those limo interviews. When the short one steps over to look at the screen, he is simply baffled. He flicks his thumb at Jane and moves on to the next and there after. Sable catches the attention of a few, but most are too terrified. Finally one last person is called out by the tall guy, the second he walked past, go figure. "Hey we got the system." He produces a stack of papers from a pocket and places them down in front of the guy. "You'll be compensated." He tells the shell as he swipes up the computer off the table. Sable steps up to Jane, smiling a bit and draws out the business card and a back stack of fives(Fifty, so about $250.) The business card has her business name, and her own, as well as a phone number on the front. On the back is 'CALL ME.' With a six digit number beneath. ---- Jane is professional enough to swipe the bundle fast enough to keep it hidden, taking a peer at the number under the card. With a nod she deletes the distress line from the screen, changing it for the command to end the microphone recording. "Maybe from a secure place." ---- A nod get the from the tall one gets the front door unlocked, Sable heads off toward the rear exit. The stocky one announces, "Thank you all for your cooperation. We regret the inconvience." And the pair exit. The guy whose computer was confiscated, sits saring at the table a moment longer, then grabs up the papers and heads for the door head down. Category:Log